


Misanthropy

by Suruberry



Series: Headcanon Verse [4]
Category: DCU, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Fluff, Interracial relationships, Jan is a good girlfriend and Mari's a workaholic, femmeslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-15
Updated: 2014-11-15
Packaged: 2018-02-25 10:57:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2619245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suruberry/pseuds/Suruberry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, girlfriends can be <i>impossible</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Misanthropy

**Author's Note:**

> Mine and [twilightscribe](http://archiveofourown.org/users/twilightscribe)'s headcanon verse that we've created. Continuity-wise, it's a mishmash of comics, cartoons, and movies. We've basically gone about cherry-picking what we like and leaving out a lot that we don't, so things are probably not gonna line up right with any one singular canon verse since there's bits from a lot of different places. Hopefully, someone else enjoys this just as much as we have.
> 
> There isn't really an overarching plot of any kind to this verse, it's more just a collection of stories of how they come together, what their lives are likes, challenges faced, and their lives. Please see individual stories for additional warnings and notes.

Crumpled, ripped sheets of paper litter the marble floor.

A very frustrated Mari Jiwe McCabe sits in her studio, slaving over a light table where she futilely attempts at trying to sketch her fall/winter line. She says that she’s going for a heroin-chic, Sid and Nancy aesthetic with a flare of third wave feminism (it’s a work in progress, she says), but the designs end up looking like stereotypical blobs of faux paus.

Another design crumbled and thrown onto the floor.

Another stream of swearing in Mari’s mother tongue.

No progress made.

Only anger and frustration arose from the dim room.

 

Janet Van Dyne -- fellow fashion enthusiast, member of the Avengers, and ironically, Mari’s girlfriend – finally comes back home from a hard day of adventuring. She took her heels off – _Big mistake_ , she thought to herself – and hissed quietly to herself, not sure if Mari was asleep. She staggers to the kitchen, knees and joints popping from her being thrown against a wall by not only the Red Skull, but she had the misfortune of being nearly squished by Iron Man’s metal ass. _Note to self: Get better powers and tell Tony to go on a diet_ , she mused to herself. Jan was surprised that there were no toys on the floor which means her girlfriend’s son, Imani, was probably spending some quality time with one of the Leaguers (probably Clark, well, definitely Clark) and also meant that Mommy is probably slumped over hissing at her designs.

Jan sighs to herself, “Might as well get her up. Don’t want here to just sit there until the sun is shining.”

Jan staggered herself upstairs, wincing with every narrow step up to Mari’s studio.  Each step felt like it was getting narrower and narrower; doesn’t help that she has baby blisters growing on her sore feet so the trek upstairs felt like she was climbing the Andes. She finally reach the top of the stairs to see all the lights off, except the small lights of the appliances of the small kitchenette in the back and a light under the only door upstairs: The studio.

The pixie-haired woman sighed to herself, tip-toeing to the door in an attempt to not alert Mari that she’s home. One thing Jan was for sure of her girlfriend the last few months they’ve been dating is that Mari will literally sketch, sew, and bleed over fabric before she actually takes a break. _Woman’s in her forties and yet_ she _needs me to take care of her_ , nagged Jan in her head. As much as she seemed like she hated the workaholic tendencies of Mari, she did enjoy checking up on her, telling her to come to bed because it was way too late at night to try to embroider a hoop skirt, and just taking care of her. Sometimes, Mari takes care of her so maybe knocking on the door won’t be that big of a deal.

 

Mari nearly jumps out of her skin when she hears the sudden knock at her door. Eyes nearly crossing from trying to drawing lace and fishnets, she stumbles to the door where she nearly trips on her overpriced harem pants from Neiman Marcus but successfully recovers. She swiftly opens the door and in a very tired, heavily accented voice uttered, “What?”

Jan startled by the sight of Mari’s appearance: coarse hair in a tight ball on the top of her head, satin hoodie that she was wearing covered with ink spots and sporting a few pins on the sleeves (she must’ve been sewing), pants slightly hanging off of her, and sunken in eyes and a deep scowl on her face.  


“Jesus, Mari! How long have you’ve been up here,” Jan blurted out, disregarding the shrill tone that was present in her voice.

“M’ybe since noon. Might have been earlier. I don’t remember,” yawned Mari, scratching her head, slightly disturbing the pencil that was in her bun.

“You need sleep.”

“I need to work.”

“You know you’re not the _only_ designer at your company, right?”

“I’m the only one to get it –“

“Mari, it’s still October and you’re designing your fall and winter line now,” asserted Jan, raising her voice a little bit louder so it can get into Mari’s thick head.

“Jan, I’m trying to get ahead,” Mari wearily explained.

Jan makes her way into the studio, startling Mari, and grabs her stubborn as hell girlfriend’s hand and pulls her out of the door, suddenly felt a snag. “Did you just use your claws,” screamed Jan.

One free hand buried into the wood of the door frame.

She _did_.

“Stop being stubborn,” shrieked the Avenger, futilely trying to jerk Mari out the door frame.

“Jan, honey, I need to work,” begged Mari, all the while trying to retreat back to her studio.

Jan loosen her grip on Mari, still holding her hand, but the pure look of tiredness clear on Jan’s face. Mari’s features soften at the sight of her girlfriend trying to make her go to sleep, but all the while ignoring how Jan is completely ignoring HER body going, “Sleep good. Sleep wonderful. Sleep _now_.”

Suddenly, the grip on the door frame loosens and a very wearily Mari cursing in her native tongue, itching her hair with her free hand and tightened the grip of her Jan-filled hand. Signs of defeat.

Jan won.

“Fine, let’s go to bed,” mumbled Mari, using her free hand to turn off the studio’s light.

Jan let out a weak cheer when she noticed the pain has not only traveled from her feet, but to her legs and lower back. “Mmm, maybe not to bed, but can we sleep on the couch until my legs stop screaming at me,” Jan laughed weakly.

“But of course. Lean on me,” Mari said as she helped her girlfriend walked to the couch by the kitchenette. Mari gingerly helped Jan sit down on the opposite of the couch as she laid down.

“You’re a saint, Mari,” Jan mumbled as she crawled up, laying on Mari, her head tucked underneath Mari’s chin and hand instinctively going towards Mari’s totem, thumping the fox emblem with her index finger.

“Mhm,” Mari said sleepily.

Her eyes were heavy.

 She weakly petted Jan’s hair as Jan fell asleep.

She closed her eyes, promising that she won’t be as a misanthrope tomorrow.                  


End file.
